Walking with Dragons
by Charlie019
Summary: Getting lost isn't so bad as long as there's a way home. Problem is, its way more complicated than that, and things aren't as forgiving as they seem once I'm stuck in it. Hopefully, I'm a fast learner. Self-Insert
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Bioware owns Dragon Age.**

**A/N: So, I finally decided to revive this old self insert draft that I made a couple months ago. I mean, why not? I already wrote it out, so might as well just show it. And get rid of plot bunnies.**

**A major shout out to Middle of Nowhere by Wyolake and Gamer In Thedas by Lichrune. If you are the sort to read self inserts, go check them out. Seriously.**

* * *

"Try initializing the component first."

I typed down the necessary codes, which removed the red lines of error and created three more else where on the program. Figures, non static components don't work like that.

"Bloody hell…"

I agreed with my partner. Coding is hell. Which made me regret not checking what will I be getting into first before foolishly signing up a year ago. We've been staying up late just to complete this little project that requires us to make a simple Hangman game using C#.

Which was a major pain in the ass. Much more than I anticipated.

"This is bullshit." I scowled, glaring at the computer, frustrated at our lack of progress.

"Yes Lee you said it a dozen times already. Now- Hey! No sleeping!"

"Sorry." Rubbing my eyes and stifling a yawn, I tried looking for the other member of our group. "Where's …"

"Buying drinks."

"Shouldn't she be back by now?" I questioned, deleting a couple lines and typing new ones in.

_'n = word. IndexOf("b");_

_word = word. Substring(n, 1);_

word = word. Insert(n, 1);

if (wIndex = = word. Length – 1)

_Error; variable...'_

"This will kill me faster than fast food, I swear it will." Resting my head against my palm, I scanned the screen, looking for any mistakes and doing mental calculations any analysis of the output of this code plus why is it not working.

Maybe I'm not supposed to use Substring. If I replace it with remove and multiply n by 2, maybe it'll remove the underscore. Then I should also multiply n by two for Insert. That should make the program remove the underscore and replace it with the letter inputted….

Wow. Now the program can't move on to the next word.

"Go look for her."

"Hmm?"

"She should be back by now. Go look for her. And to get your mind off…" He gestured to the computer. "This. Take a short mental break."

That sounds like a very, very good idea. God knows I needed the mental break. And to relax a little.

Muttering my thanks, I slipped out from the room and out of the house. Taking a moment to enjoy the night breeze, I moved off into the darkness of the night, headed for the vending machines near the clubhouse nearby.

Yeah, she should be back by now.

.

.

.

.

"Ugh…"

My head hurts.

"Shit…"

It feels like someone is stabbing my skull with needles, but the needles felt more like hammers. And I am feeling those stabbings going on all around my head, resulting in pure agony. I briefly opened my eyes, only to shut them immediately. Too damn bright. Like a thousand needles stabbing my eyes. I took a moment, and opened them again, this time squinting through the light as one arm reached up to cradle my head. Dark spots danced across my vision as did, as I spent the next minute lying down, in the grassy-

Grassy?

Why am I lying in th-

I turned my head to the side.

Why am I lying in the middle of the forest?

A little more awake, I allowed my eyes to open a little more as I adjusted to the brightness. The painful throbbing across my skull seemed to have lessened slightly so I rolled on my side, brushing some dead leaves off my body as I did. Then I smelt something foul in the air.

Very foul.

I shower every time before dinner, so that definitely wasn't me.

Temporarily ignoring the smell, I focused more on my sore body, like a car just ran over me or something.

Taking another moment to rest for a while, I pushed myself up on my knees, ignoring how my body screams in protest. Parts of me were twitching a little, I think, I feel weird. Running my fingers through my think hair I finally opened my eyes fully.

Wow.

Despite my current state, I couldn't help but admire the view.

Its beautiful.

No, gorgeous.

How do I say, I feel like Jake Sully from Avatar, the part where he got off the chopper and went 'Holy Shit' from everything around him. The leaves are green, I mean, very green. To the point where some are actually glowing a little under the sun. The light shining down is also slightly green, filtered through the highest branches. And unlike the blazing heat back home, its actually cooling here, like I am under air conditioning, and something else at the same time.

In the distance, I can hear the chirping of birds, squirrels scrambling across the forest floor, across branches and what I think is a woodpecker hammering away on a tree. Its full of life, despite the smell, and way more than the woody areas near my house. Maybe there's more, and I just haven't came across them yet.

Or it could be that I am simply shocked at my current predicament.

Hopefully there's no wolves.

The only thing that's ruining this moment I'm having is the smell. Which is coming from…

The trio of dead bodies hung up on a tree nearby by their necks, rotting and crawling with maggots.

Oh lord…

One of them was missing an eye, long rotted away and having those white fat slugs crawling around in its wake. The stench, amplified by a random gust of wind, along with the rotting flesh crawling with maggots are just…

I couldn't help it. I turned and emptied my stomach contents into a nearby bush. When that is done, I dry heaved some more before finally stopping. "Ugh…"

What. The. Hell?

What kind of sick person hangs someone, then leave the body up to rot?

I woke up, in a stunning looking forest, where three people have died and hung up on trees.

I woke up, in a forest, when there is none near my home.

I woke up, in a forest which potentially hides a serial killer.

I gave myself a quick pat down to see what I have on me, and only found a half eaten bar of chocolate in my pocket plus my wallet. No phone though, damn. Still wearing the khaki pants and greyish shirt with a picture of earth on it. Don't ask, I like that shirt. Which now has dirt and other stuff on it from me lying there.

Well, at least I'm not hanging and rotting on the tree by the neck.

For a moment, I entertained the notion that someone had decided to rob me, but threw it away. What kind of robber, robs someone, then kidnaps that person and drops them off at an unfamiliar forest that seem to rival the ones in movies?

The neck of the corpse in the middle began to split.

Oh hell no. I do not want the image of what's about to happen to be imprinted in my head.

I turned around and walked away from it. Two seconds later, I heard a wet sound, followed by something dropping on the ground.

Problem is, I don't know where am I going. All the trees look alike to me, and I see no distinctive paths.

_One thing at a time._

_._

_._

Its one thing to walk through a forest path teaming with life, taking pictures, enjoying nature and watching animals.

And its another to walk through a forest off the path, getting stuck in bushes, tripping over roots and stumbling into rabbit holes while trying to figure out the way back to civilization. Without any form of equipment such as a torchlight or compass. I could be walking in circles and wouldn't even know about it.

Then when the sun sets, multiply the occurrences of those accidents by at least twice, and add in slamming headfirst into trees that suddenly appear out of darkness plus doing painful face plants from falling. Along with hunger and thirst, you get frustration, anger and fear. Even though the moon is up, its still hard to see anything, only faint shadows and outlines.

Remember what I said about the forest being beautiful? I take it back. Its creepy. The singing birds and scampering squirrels and other animals are replaced by crickets singing their hearts out, doing their damnest to drive me mad with the constant screeches.

Or it sounds like they are screeching by now in my current condition.

Bugs, especially mosquitoes, that decides to ruin my day even further by sucking my blood and leaving itchy welts behind. There's also something else. Like the forest is alive. I can feel it, literally, like many pairs of unseen eyes spying on me. Watching my every move.

Waiting.

Every time I fall, I need to beat around my body to throw off any unwanted inhabitants I picked up in the process. Once, I almost smashed straight into a tree _crawling_ with ants, only to change direction at the last second and advert disaster.

Still, despite my best efforts, most of my exposed skin has some sort of cut or bruise on it from all these falling and crashing. A couple of them are even bleeding.

Then I my foot met with nothing. Being too late to do anything about it, I did the next best thing that came to my mind before weightlessness took over.

"Oh shi-"

I never got to finish what I wanted to say, instead began rolling straight down the slope, and hopefully not breaking any bones in the process. Especially my leg. I can't try to find my way out if I break my leg. Lying down in a creepy forest, unable to move and slowly dying from exposure is not how I want to end my life. Maybe the process would speed up greatly if an wolf or a bear stopped by. I stopped rolling, crashing down at the bottom of the tiny ridge, ending up in a heap, rolling around in pain.

"Son of a…"

"Tinna? Fadrin? Enasai! Emma Rillia. Na ena vena ma?"

_Oh shit._

I rolled onto my stomach, pushing myself up into a crouch as I checked my surroundings. "Who's there?"

The lack of reply further unnerves me, while I struggled to ignore how sore I feel. "You understand what I'm saying?"

My leg starts to tremble involuntarily, and I did my best to hid it as much as I can. I don't like where this is going. I really don't. "Hello? If you are still-"

The reply was soft. Very soft, to the point where I almost missed it. It sounded rather high pitched, timid and feminine, and distinctively belonging to a child. "Yes?"

Tracking the rough direction where it came from, I saw it. Her I mean, hiding behind a tree, blending in almost perfectly with the darkness. She took a step out, which allowed me to see clearer now since she's slightly illuminated by the moon light. She's tiny. And I mean, really tiny. A head shorter than most little kids. Her clothing looks to be of simple material, with some curvy design on the edges. Instead of having suspenders, laces, buttons or sorts to hold it together, it uses what I think to be vines.

Who the hell uses vines to hold their clothing together?

She met my gaze with those bright blue orbs of hers.

"Why are you here?" The question was innocent, laced with suspicion, like I am intruding or something.

"Lost my way." I shrugged. "Do you know the way out of the forest?"

A short pause from her as she pursed her lips. "… No?"

"Dam-" I stopped myself before I could finish that. "Hope I'm not bothering you or something. Been trying to get out of here for the whole day kid."

She looked up at me at the mention of kid, lips curled in a frown. "I'm no kid."

I raised my hands up in 'surrender'. Might as well humor her. "My apologies. I didn't notice."

She jumped at it, as if not expecting me to apologize to her. I don't know why, I don't exactly take child psychology. To me, kids are a mystery that's best if I avoid. Still, its easy no notice that she hadn't eaten in a while.

I'm such a hypocrite.

"Hungry?" I asked, offering the half eaten chocolate bar I still have, miraculously uncrushed by all the accidents I've been through. Before I could react, she had snatched it out of my hands and gave it a cautious sniff. Taking a small nibble at first, her eyes brightened in delight, before taking bigger bites, savoring the taste.

"I'll take it as a yes." A small part of me was screaming, saying what an idiot I am, for giving away my only food supply just like that in this situation.

"Do you have anymore?" She asked, swallowing the last of it.

"No. Was it really that good?" I had to ask, she wolfed it down like it was some kind of… what's the word for it? Never mind.

"Yes!" She chirped, licking her fingers clean them, as well as for the bits that's smudged on it. "Do you have more?"

"You ate the only food I have. So we both are going to starve later."

"Oh."

"Look," I suggested. "want to, stick together or something? Find our way out together? Safety in numbers?"

I immediately saw suspicion creeping into back her eyes. "Why would you suggest that?"

"I don't know? Its safer than wandering alone out there? Don't think its good to be alone in this place this late don't you think?"

She paused for a while, faltering a little. "But… Why? You are a…"

I didn't catch on to the last part, since she whispered it out or something like that. "Pardon?"

The girl flinched.

"Hey hey, its alright." I backed away in alarm. "Oh, I'm Lee." I introduced, extending my hand.

She took a cautious step away. "Rilla."

Right… I took a look at my hand, which is bleeding from multiple cuts. Bloody hell, they sting like a bitch.

Come to think of it, my whole body aches like hell from that fall. Why didn't I notice it earlier? Was it because I'm distracted by the little conversation?

A loud, bone chilling howl interrupted my thoughts. I might not have heard it before myself, but I watched enough movies, shows, played games to know how a wolf's howling sounds like. And shit. It was echoed by three more similar howls.

The little girl gasped in fear, clutching her hands close to her chest.

Me? Mine was the standard; "Oh shit."

Very fitting for the current situation.

Sure enough, four wolves slowly stepped out of the shadows before us, snarling, teeth bared, smelling food and maybe fear from us. The lead wolf was clearly larger than its brethren, at least half a size bigger, complete with a scar across its nose and what could've passed off as a grin plastered on it.

I look down to the cuts on my body. _Bleeding _cuts.

_Oh._

"Run?" I asked, turning around just to see her disappear into the darkness.

One of them snarled, showing its wicked jaws, and took a step forward.

"Run!"

I took off running to where I last saw her, almost stumbling in the process and dooming me to an early death. My sudden yell caused the wolves to be startled for a split second, but they swiftly recovered and took off in pursuit.

Running through a dark forest is ten times harder than navigating.

"Oh shit oh shit oh SHIT!" I ducked down, just as the low lying branch passed by my hair, causing my heart to jump up to my throat. In exchange, I stepped on a rock, causing my arms to shoot out in an attempt to rebalance myself before taking off again.

"Hey kid! Which way?" I gasped out when I saw her silhouette dancing past trees, branches, and avoiding roots in a grace that I get close to doing compared to my constant wobbles, clumsy weaves and jumps and I navigated through the forest.

Instead of replying, she sped up.

"Damn it!" I swore, pushing a brush of leaves aside, only to have it snap back to slap me less than a second later., cutting my face and temporary blinding me "Pfffff!" I spit the leaves out of my mouth and forced my legs to continue, ignoring the pain and pushing my limbs to their limits.

The girl might be way more graceful, but she's slower, and I soon found myself catching up.

She stumbled, tipping herself forward.

I reached out just in time to steady her, then pushed her forward. "Keep going!"

She looked back at me, eyes wide with fear, before nodding and kept going.

I wasn't so lucky. A sudden stab of pain blazed across my left ankle as I stepped on an uneven rock, sending me crashing and rolling across the floor in a mess, scattering leaves everywhere.

_Shit! Of all times!_

The lead wolf jumped leapt onto me, pinning me to the dirt. My hands shot out and held it back by its neck just as its jaws came snapping, less than an inch away from my face.

_Holy Shit!_

Failing that, it began racking its claws at my head while I kicked wildly, hoping to get it off me to no avail. My right leg manage to connect with one of the wolves that managed to catch up and tried to finish me off, sending it rolling backwards in a pained yelp. That was lucky. I don't know how much longer will that luck last though.

One of its paws got through, slashing its way across the right side of my head diagonally over the eye, spilling blood. It seemed to excite the animal, as its efforts grew tenfold, pressing down further, eager for a taste. I could feel myself losing this little battle of strength.

I tried not to think of how dirty its paws could be, and how it could give me an infection that could potentially kill me even if I survived this.

The last two emerged out of the darkness, seeing an opportunity, they moved to finish me off. The prospect of ending my life seemed to energize them, as they leapt forward for the kill. With my hands tied down, there is little I could've done to stop them.

The sharp twat of a bowstring being released, followed by a wet sound of something being struck, along with the dying yelp of one of the wolves was heard. The momentum caused the body to barrel into its pack mate, sending both sliding across the ground, away from me.

The alpha wolf looked up in alarm, only to take an arrow straight to the head, killing it instantly and crushing me under its weight. A third arrow flew past, striking the one that got bowled over, ending its life.

The fourth wolf, the one I accidentally kicked earlier, decided to bolt. It didn't get far before getting shot for its trouble.

Holy shit. I am alive.

I. Am. Alive.

Grunting with exertion, I pushed the corpse off me, ignoring its blood while pressing both hands against the cut on my head. Shit. That stung like hell. Shit Shit. Shit.

The sound of movement among the trees caught my attention, I sat up just in time to see a figure jump down from above, bending his knees on impact. Judging from the bow in his hands, I presume he's the one who saved me. A second figure leapt down to join the first as he moved towards me.

"I thank you for-"

I didn't get to finish, as the figure brutally greeted my incomplete 'thank you' with his boot aimed for my head. A loud crack later, my head crashed back down to the dirt, disorientated and in pain. I probably got a concussion from that.

"Ar tu na'lin emma mi, shem."

_What?_

"Din! Fardin, Din!"

I couldn't see much other than blurry figures. Dark blurry figures, which might as well be the same as I can barely see a thing. All I could make out was three figures, talking to one another, maybe arguing, in some language that seemed oddly familiar. One of the figures was tiny, which I vaguely recognized as Rillia.

Huh, guess she had more success than me.

My vision got red, as blood from the cut I received bleed into my eyes. The pain, combined with exhaustion from all the walking and falling I did today is overwhelming, making me feel more tired than I have ever been. Its telling me to just lie down and sleep. Maybe I should listen. I am indeed very tired.

My vision got slightly clearer, though it is still red from the blood. I couldn't help but notice that the two figures carrying bows and arrows are actually short too. Like around the height of young teenagers, and around a head shorter than me. Wow, I just got kicked by a teen who is probably younger I am.. The one who kicked me was gesturing angrily, or at least I think he's angry, at my prone body. And…

Is it just me or is it that their ears are a little…

The angry one turned and saw me, still slightly conscious.

He rectified the problem by delivering another kick to my jaw.

This time I stayed down.

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**A/N: And there we go, the first chapter. Writing elvish is harder than I had anticipated. And yes, coding is a pain, well, to me anyway. Never had the knack for it I guess. Anyway, if you have any enquires, feel free to ask. And drop a review if you could too, that'll be great. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Bioware owns all. Leave me alone. **

**A/N: Kudos to In caverns dark for the first review for this fic. **

* * *

"Oooooooooooo…"

My head hurts. Like someone kicked it really hard, the applied anesthetic on it, so it hurts and feel numb at the same time. If anyone here had taken anesthetic, they should know what I'm talking about. So my head, in a sense, like its just an extra bit of me that's never supposed to be there, feels foreign, yet it hurts.

Wait.

Memories of last night surged back, the wolves, being saved and…

Oh. So I did get kicked. Then why does my head feel numb? I took a soccer ball to the head once, and I don't recall numbness being part of what I should feel. Maybe I'm drugged. Does that make me an addict? Would I start suffering from withdrawals?

My eye lids felt like weights for some reason. Or like someone had cut them off and replaced them with heavy steel ones, making opening them a struggle. I mean, wow. My throat feels dry, very dry, and I thirst for a drink to quench it. Must been long since I last drank anything.

I tried reaching out to the place where I got scratched, only to stop short when I discovered I couldn't move my arms.

Snapping my eyes open in alarm, the first thing I saw is a bonfire some distance in front of me.

Awesome. I'm about to be cooked.

There are people sitting around the fire, or just walking around doing chores or stuff elsewhere around the area. And… wow. I stumbled upon a tribe of teenage cannibals. All of them are… wait.

Are those… _pointed _ears?

I shook my head repeatedly to further awaken my senses. No way in hell is that possible.

The inhabitants of this little camp seemed to be dressed in some simple clothes, dyed in different colors with a few odd leaf like curvy designs on the sides, such as the hems and the collar. A couple had stuck flowers and leaves in them, and all had vine like materials instead of buttons, suspenders and laces holding their clothing together. Aside from the ears, most of the taller and older looking ones seemed to have tattoos of some sorts on their faces, or maybe its war paint.

Others are in some form of armor, armed with curved blades and knives, a couple with bows. One had a staff, or spear. I couldn't tell.

I managed to spot Rillia sitting at the far side with a couple of the taller ones. She gave me an apologetic nod and discretely pointed at the taller ones, like saying its their idea or something.

Quite a couple of them are staring at me, especially the little ones, like I am some exotic animal on display. Others were suspicious, and at worst, its outright hostility and hatred.

Maybe I should dance for their entertainment. Is that how I am to earn my freedom? Or my next meal? Dance for the little ones?

All of them have elf like ears.

As much as I want to tell myself those are just plastic, I couldn't. The ears looked real enough. So does their weapons.

Plus, the one with the staff is, doing something. It looks like she's playing with fire with her bare hands, but that's not really true. Its more like she's forming figures, flaming figures or something like that. Her brows are furrowed in concentration, as the fire danced from the figure of a butterfly to a cat, then to a humanoid warrior figure, much to the delight of the little ones. That goes way beyond 'playing with fire'.

As much as I want to say 'Cool!', it's kinda scary too. I mean, damn! That, is not a simple trick that we see from performers or suicidal circus goons. Not even close.

A stern voice came from one of the large tents, causing her to clench her hand into a fist, dissipating the magical display, much to the disappointment of those around her. Maybe it is magic.

A much older looking man, elf, I don't know, I'm still kind of confused, walked out from the large tent, and began lecturing, the woman. Others nearby bowed their heads in respect when he walked past.

Oh shit. Maybe they are the ones who hung up the three people that are rotting.

The older elf turned to me.

_Craap._

I began to struggle against the ropes binding me.

His robes have a more complex, elegant design, which clearly says 'wise leader', and 'don't mess with him'. A thick, leather cloak is wrapped around his shoulder, with made him stand out even more. To complete the wise old leader of this tribe look, his face tattoos or paint, is also very different from the others.

He opened his mouth. "Shem."

_Erm…_

"Before you cook me, I just want to say, I'm all skin and bones, you wouldn't find me appetizing at all." I tried to meet his gaze, my throat protesting with every word I form on my lips, making them sound hoarse and foreign to my ears. "So, could you, well, cut me free? I wouldn't bother you again."

"Your gibe does you no credit, shemlen." He replied.

"Begging and pleading never works, so I figured I'll give something else a try." I replied. Deep down, I'm scared shitless, voice cracking and shaking despite my best efforts to hide it.

I mean, one of them, was seemingly playing with fire magic just now, and judging by the staff hung behind this guy, he could too, and is way better than her. Its clear that the camp wants me gone, and more than half of them, if their looks are of any indication, 'gone' means cutting me open and throwing my corpse in the forest. Or burn me to crisp for dinner.

"Not all Dalish are as barbaric as what the shems portray us to be."

_Dalish? Shem?_

"…"

Oh shit.

No no no. No way in hell.

This is not happening. This is not happening.

The elf looked down at me, still waiting for an answer.

"Well, you didn't kill me right away, so… Erm, I guess that's good?" I nervously asked. The Dalish aren't known to have good relations with humans from what I read in the official DA books, games and occasional fanfics. At worse, they are merciless guerrilla fighters who would happily kill people for just being a human.

"No. Unfortunately, killing you might upset Rillia, but nothing says we can't just drag you into the Woods, kill you, tell her you've been freed and be done with it."

My jaw dropped.

The Keeper barked an order for his subordinate standing beside him, who drew his curvy dagger in response.

_Oh fuck._

"Whoa whoa shit! No wait a minute, just, shit, just let me- Oh no no no nonononono-"

The other elf moved in closer and proceeded to manoeuvre behind me, further increasing my panic level.

The bonds tying my hands was cut all of a sudden, the lack of something holding me behind caused all the momentum built up from my squirming to propel me forward without warning.

"But I gave my word that you will not come to any harm."

"…"

The elf who went behind me to cut the rope snickered at my reaction. Holy shit, I thought he was going to cut my throat open.

"Shems…"

Piss off asshole. No, of course I didn't say that. Though…

Looking down discreetly, did I just- Shit. Well, at least my bladder is sort of, dry, so it wasn't messy. Doubt they'll notice. That almost gave me a heart attack. He might look like it was nothing but I swear, his eyes clearly said that he found it amusing.

Asshole.

The Keeper turned to walk away. "Come meet me at my aravel when you are ready." Pausing in after thought, his neck twisted back to look at me. "Don't try to run. You will be shot before you can take five steps." He decides to add before continuing to walk away.

Seeing little choice, I decide to follow. Turning into a piñata does not sound appealing, especially when they nearly gave me a stroke by pretending they wanted to kill me. And see if I can find out if they know anything about my presence here, in Thedas.

Rubbing my raw wrists nervously, I did my best to ignore the looks thrown in my direction. When a couple of them started toying with their blades deliberately, I increased my pace, ducking into the Keeper's aravel. It should be safer here.

No. I take it back. The one playing with fire, or playing with magic now that I have a clearer idea of things, is there. His First, and apparently she shares similar views with the rest of the camp, tapping her fingers along her staff which is no longer on her back. Even though she is more than a head shorter than me, every part of her screamed danger to me, and frankly, her glare is bloody terrifying, like she could set me alight into a screaming, flaming torch with her eyes alone.

The message is clear: You are not welcome.

"Eleena, shiral vir."

Scowling in disapproval, she opened her mouth to argue, but a sharp glare cut off whatever she was about to say, biting her lip as she tried to find the right words. After a while, she gave up. "Ma nuvenin, dareth." After that, she left the aravel, leaving me with the Keeper.

Motioning for me to sit down by the small round table at the side, he moved to the other side of the aravel. "Drinks?" I nodded, eager to quench my thirst. I don't really want to think about why is he so generous right now. Too tired. The only sleep I got was the ones where I was unconscious from that brutal kick I received from the elf. Come to think of it, he's probably not a teenager like I thought he was, since elves are naturally shorter in this universe. He could be an adult.

The sound of glass hitting the table dragged me out of my thoughts, making me realize that he's done. Before I could register it, I reached out for a sip, guess I'm more thirsty than I –

"Careful, its…" I hissed in pain as the scalding drink killed my tongue, and I had to bite it to prevent myself from crying out in pain, dropping the cup and the plate back on the table, spilling some of its contents. "Hot."

God haven't I embarrassed myself enough already?

"Sorry," I muttered. "Guess I'm more thirsty than I thought."

He takes the cup off the plate, his other hand hovering over the drink. A quick, bluish flare of light appeared between his fingertips and a slight chill later, he places it back in front of me. "Try now."

I snap my jaw shut at the display. Can you blame me? Earth don't have magic. Just science. Here, they have magic, and multiple creative uses for them instead of science. Except for the horned giants, who mastered gunpowder and proceeded to kick everyone's ass with them.

Wow, its warm now. I gently took the cup in my hands and moved it to my lips, taking a tiny sip. Hmm, its good I say. Tastes like tea, sweet tea, smooth, its aroma capable of warming hearts. Better than most teas back home actually. At least my throat doesn't feel like its screaming bloody murder with my thirst sated.

And before I forget my to do so, I better say this now.

"Thank you."

There, done.

Unlike me, the Keeper seated on the other side of this tiny table seems to prefer taking tiny sips, slowly taking in the taste and texture of the herbal drink. A stark contrast to me, taking big gulps to quickly soothe the dry feeling in my throat. While yes, it is a good tea, but my throat takes priority

"While you are at it," the Keeper addressed coolly. "You could explain what are you doing so close to our camp."

_I just crossed dimensions from a world which has the technology to make you all look like caveman. _"I… lost my way."

He gave me the 'stare'. "You lost your way."

"Yes." I replied. "Frankly, I don't know."

"Instead of killing you, we spared you. Instead of letting you bleed, we temporarily took you in and gave you shelter. Instead of letting your wounds fester, I healed you." He said, setting his piercing glare on mine, causing me to squirm uncomfortably. "Its only fair that you tell us why are you here."

"I lost my way." It's the not exactly a lie, since I actually know where I am. I'm in Thedas, but which part of it specifically? I have no idea. Maybe if I know the name of this forest, I will, but the fact is, crossing dimensions is not as easy as finding a road sign and asking directions. In a sense, I say I'm lost. "The only thing I remotely remember is passing by the three dead people hung up on a tree." I cocked an eyebrow at the elder. "Was it you?"

"So you are here to investigate it, or to look for them, and find out who did it?" He questioned me. "The clan that was responsible left close to a month ago. They are, less accepting of your kind. If you are lucky, they will kill you. If you are not, you will wish for them to kill you."

Oh, so are they, well, the Scoia'tael in Dragon Age? Do they happen to have someone named Ioreth among them?

"No, I'm lost. I stumbled upon them and mentioned them because it's the only thing noticeable aside from trees and rocks."

"…"

"I'm serious. I honestly have no idea what happened or how did I get here."

If I am to guess, I say he obviously doesn't believe me at all. Not one bit. "Where are you from?"

"Far away." I shrugged. Across dimensions and from a tiny little rock in the middle of South-East Asia actually. Singapore if you want to be specific. "Where am I?"

He raised an eyebrow, probably the only sign of what's going on that head of his before it disappears back into the neutral look. "Wending Woods."

Ah, I'm in Fereldan then. Amaranthine to be specific.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Really far. You probably never head of it."

"Indeed." He said, nonchalantly reaching into his robes and pulling out… Is that _my _wallet? Oh shit. "This, money purse of sorts, seemed to be of high quality. _Very_ high quality. If I didn't know any better I would say you are the spawn of one of the highborn shemlem."

_Oh. Shit._

"And this…" He pulled out a tiny picture of myself. "Painting? Whoever who painted this is either very good, or had good tools."

_Done by a machine of which its mechanics I myself don't understand actually. Camera and printer._

At least I don't have my ID card with me. That would be a dead give away.

"And these coins seem… unique."

Forgot about those, shit.

Thinking quickly, I found my excuse. Or cover. "All right, I'm from Rivian. Well, my parents are, but I'm born here, so I don't have the accent." Rivainis are rather tan right? Maybe I can pass off as one. Living in a blazing tropical country does that to you, except that I stay indoors a lot. Do Asians look like Rivaini?

Hopefully they do.

"You are a horrible liar."

Oh fuck me.

"Your eyes betray what you think by darting everywhere, except to the person you are addressing. You bit your lower lip before you speak, something you did not do when we spoke earlier. And you fiddle with your fingers."

Who the hell is this guy? A Keeper, and now a psychologist? What's next? Grey Warden?

"…"

"Nothing to say?"

Nothing actually. I'm too busy trying to not make this any worse for myself.

"Pity." He snaps my wallet shut and slides it across the table back to me, which I fail to catch. I mean, who slides something across a freaking tiny round table? "And clumsy too."

Well…

"Regardless, I'm afraid that I'll have to send you off tomorrow. The longer you stay, the more likely it is that one of the more extreme ones will decide to take matters into their own hands to get rid of you."

Wait what?

"Just like that?" I asked incredulously.

"Are you complaining?"

"No, no just, you know. Curious."

"You are of no threat. Otherwise we won't be having this conversation." He cocked an eyebrow in my direction. "I wouldn't have you killed and I can't keep you. So I'll throw you out. Simple."

Before I can formulate a response to that, he said something in elvish, and his First came right back in, greeting the Keeper before going back to glaring daggers at me. What have I done? Kicked her puppy?

A quick exchange of elvish later, and I'm ushered out of the tent, at knife point. Well, the knife on the other end of the staff anyway. They really hate me, or hate the fact that I don't have pointed ears., like come on. The Dalish in Origins weren't so racist at all. Heck, the only time I've seen them being racist was in The Stolen Throne, where they happily captured the intruders and offered them to Flemeth. Or out of fear, I don't know.

Maybe she's the reason I'm here. I mean, that's Flemeth right? Insanely powerful mage with unknown intentions, only present to offer cryptic hints and be mysterious.

She brought me back to the wooden pole which I found myself tied to earlier, motioning for me to sit. Not wanting to make trouble with someone who can kill me with her head, I complied.

With that, other than receiving hostile glares, my mind finally caught up to my current predicament.

_Holy shit. I'm on Thedas._

_I somehow manage to get myself stuck on Thedas. _

I mean, Thedas? Really? Couldn't they, or whoever who decided to play this twisted crap of theirs, throw me one hundred years later on Mars and be done with it? Why Thedas? What am I supposed to do? Be a squire? Kill darkspawn? Give the Chantry the middle finger everyday at noon? Become a farmer? Join the Origins crew?

Well, I mean, shooting a gun is way easier than swinging a sword right? Just point and shoot, then someone in the distance dies, instead of going up close and personal, straining muscles, deflecting blows with swords and hoping I don't make a mistake. And hey, add in magic, and I'm royally screwed.

Well, at least I don't have to deal with random artillery shells landing next to me without warning. That's a plus.

Son of a bitch.

That's if my 'escorts' don't decide to plant an arrow into my back while bringing me away from their camp. Its actually a very high possibility, considering the fact that one of them attempted to break my jaw with his feet.

Someone drops of bowl of what I presume to be meat stew at my feet. I only noticed it close to two hours later, too caught up with the thoughts in my head.

By then, the warm stew had turned into a bowl of cold slop.

So had the stain in my pants, which made it extremely uncomfortable.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I am a wimp. So if I do find myself in that scenario, I would probably piss myself too.**


	3. Chapter 3

_**A.N: Sorry about the long wait, had a bit of a problem managing the not so consistent tenses and trying to decide if I should use past or present. That and... well, I can't think of anymore excuses.**_

_**Anyway, thanks for all who reviewed, favourited and followed this fic. **_

* * *

Dragon Age said many things about the wandering Dalish nomads. They are defiant, wander tribesman, wandering from place to place to avoid human attention and scouring for long lost elven artifacts. They survive by hunting and foraging, along with occasional trading with nearby human settlements. They do not fear magic, they embrace it.

However, they said nothing about being good hosts.

The method they chose to wake me up the following day was by pouring ice cold water over my snoring body. Ice cold as in, literally. To this day, I still believe that the First must had used her magic to bring the water down to almost freezing levels before pouring it over my head.

To say I woke up that morning screaming and cursing is an understatement.

At least she didn't drape a sack over my head and waterboard me with that bucket of water.

Just for the notice: I hate cold. I rather be under a scorching sun for hours than a minute in winter. Cold temperature and me were never good friends. And I don't think we ever will.

"What the hell?!" I sputtered after I am finished with expressing my wide knowledge of vulgarities ever known to man. The reply I promptly received was having the now empty bucket dropped on my head.

"Get up. You are leaving today." The First told me. Without waiting to check if I am ready, she turned and walked back outside.

If I still had any previous doubts on being stuck in Dragon Age, now I don't.

I had briefly hoped for a High Dragon to drop down and burn her to ash, even if it meant that I would be burned to crisp soon after along with the rest of the camp.

Outside, I am greeted with the same icy cold reception that the elves gave me yesterday, scowls, hands reaching out for the nearest weapons they could find, be it knives, axes or swords and anger. The last one was significantly less intense than yesterday, but still enough for me to feel uncomfortable.

With my head still sore from the wooden bucket that was dropped on it, I did what I had been doing ever since I was brought here: keep my head low and ignore them. Not exactly dignified but hey. I am in a camp full of human hating elves training in guerrilla warfare. Killing a skinny me would be a piece of cake for them.

Between dignity and life? I chose life.

Why?

Dignity, if I chose to, could be recovered if I want and make an effort to do so in the future. I couldn't however, recover my life if I pissed off the elves and took an arrow through the eye.

"Where are we going?" I asked, eyeing an elf sitting by the side, throwing his knife up and catching it as it fell. I adverted my eyes when he mockingly drew it across his neck in a threatening way while looking at me.

"Breakfast."

"Breakfast?"

"A shem doesn't know what breakfast is, fascinating." She replied dryly, rolling her eyes.

I raised my hands up in surrender. "No no, just surprised, that's it."

"Then stop complaining."

_I'm not. You're just being a bitch._

Of course I didn't say that. She would incinerate me faster than I can ask for forgiveness if I did. Only be a smart ass to people you know you can get away by doing so, that's my rule. Though I'm not exactly good at following it sometimes.

Besides, I believed that she finds offence in everything I say, no matter what it was.

Maybe if I farted, she would approve of it since it came from my ass instead of my mouth.

She brought me back to the wooden pole where I was tied up yesterday and left me there. Probably because it had quite a distance away from the camp and yet gave them a full view of me, so I could be easily watched and stopped if I got stupid and tried something.

Like clockwork, the elves spent some time glaring at me in spite, then getting bored of it and returning to whatever they were doing before. Everyone seemed more used to the 'shem' amongst their midst and after spending some time with 'show hostility to the human', they went on with their lives. Or at least that's my theory on why the camp is more crowded today.

Saw Rilla walking out of one of the tents with an adult as someone brought me breakfast. When she tried to raise her hand and wave, her hand got slapped down and the older elf snapped something at her, causing her to lower her head sheepishly.

Looking down my breakfast, my eyebrows frowned in disappointment. Cold porridge. Or maybe I should say, cold jelly porridge. Of course they would serve me something like that just to spite me.

Twirling the spoon in the jellified porridge, I took my first bite, doing my best to ignore its texture. Gulping it down, I tried to focus my mind on other things, and pretending that the porridge is ice cream.

_Ice cream made from shit._

_Shut up._ I told myself.

The Keeper walked over just as I was finishing my breakfast, followed by his First. Like a puppy after its master. "You're done." He pointed out the obvious. I refrained myself from making a remark on that. "You stayed long enough."

Given my predicament of being glared at like I am some disease to be purged, I totally agree with him. If I had stayed any longer, someone might slit my throat while I sleep. Or maybe had an 'unfortunate accident'.

"I will send one of my hunters and my First along." He gestured to the other elf beside him. Thankfully, he's not the one who kicked me in the face. "They will make sure you leave."

"That's alright. I don't know the way out." I am worried that the First would simply take the easy way out of her duties by shoving her staff up my ass and frying me from the inside out on the way and telling the Keeper she did her job while hiding the fact that she killed me. But what could I do about it? I am in a camp full of human hating elves.

I'm pretty sure that's not the first time I said something along those lines during my stay here.

"Up." She barked.

_Like a true puppy…_

I obeyed, dumping the bowl aside as I got up. The two elves who had the honor of escorting me were already in motion, the hunter slinging a small pack over his shoulders, right beside his quiver of arrows. The First whacked her staff on the side on my leg to 'encourage' me to move faster.

"Where are we going?" I asked as we passed by the halla pen. I spent sometime staring at them, wondering if they did carry ancient elves on their backs into battle. I found it rather hard to believe that those docile white stags once carried the elves into war. They were the size of a deer, not even close to a horse, how fast could those things go anyway?

"Away."

"Yes, but where?"

The caretaker of the halla looked up as we started to leave the boundaries of the camp. "Dareth shiral, falon." The hunter waved back. The First didn't, only offered elvish greetings to the sentries, including the ones in the trees who I couldn't see. Though I will if I had decided to do something stupid.

"The nearest shem village."

_Very vague. Thank you._

"Rosdon. Situated alongside Hafter River and twenty miles from the large shem fortress and fifty miles away from Greenfell."

The First gave her partner an irritated glare, while I gaped at him, as I wasn't expecting a Dalish elf to know so much about the nearby human settlements.

He simply shrugged and pointed at himself. "Former city elf." He pushed forward, bumping shoulder with the First as he went. "Or flat ear, as some would say."

_Damn. The Keeper sent me two elves to bring me out, and both of them had something against the other. Plus both likely shares the universal dislike for a human._

"So…" I spoke up after a while, hoping to break the tension. "How long would the journey be?"

"No idea."

"But…"

"That was seventeen years ago. I'm not exactly familiar with everything now." He told me. "Not that it matters to some," he finished, making a point to glare at the First.

Seemed like they had bad blood between them, and I'm caught in the middle. I knew that Keeper had a twisted sense of humor. He's like Roose Bolten from Game of Thrones, with his subtle trolling habits. Hopefully, the First wouldn't kill me to use blood magic on the hunter out of anger.

I hoped she don't know blood magic.

Since I figured out that I am in Thedas instead of Earth, I took another look around my surroundings. The universal environmental color is Dragon Age is always a shade of brown. I mean, look at the Deep Roads, Denerim, Amaranthine, Wending Woods, they all had a shade of brown to them. The trees looked like 3D blocks, well designed 3D blocks but still 3D blocks. A 3D block that's in another shade of brown. Dragon Age 2 took it up by giving us Kirkwall, which was browner.

Seeing it for myself with my own eyes, on the other hand, was way different.

Think about Skyrim's environments using the ultra high resolution texture pack, or The Witcher 2 on its highest settings, maybe Crysis 3. Slap that onto Dragon Age, multiply that by ten times and that's how everything looked like here. Kingswood from Game of Thrones and the forest where the cast battle the uruk-hai in Lord of the Rings.

Also, wasn't Fereldan described as a cold place? Very cold? All I felt was chilly, not the cold that Sten and Duncan talked about.

I wondered how everything else looked like, and how Denerim, Ostagar, and Redcliffe, locations in Dragon Age in general looked like. I thought about paying Val Royeaux a visit, see how the famous capital of Orlais would look like. It would be like a history lesson into medieval society. One that I'm never coming back from.

In the distant future, maybe it would be possible. Now? No. I had no money, no home, no family or friends to contact.

I nearly tripped myself over a fallen sapling. Or trampled sapling, since I began to recognize this place. I remembered running past here, escaping the wolves.

The two elves, being Dalish, noticed it too. The marks I left behind in a frantic attempt to escape being ripped apart.

"This your doing?" The hunter asked me, motioning to the messy trail of broken twigs, trampled grass I left behind.

The fact that the Dalish were nature lovers disturbed me, since there's no telling what they would do since I made quite a mess to the local greenery.

_Hopefully they aren't too extreme about it._

"Yes?"

"Because of three wolves?"

"How did you know that?" I asked, both my eyebrows going up in surprise. All I could see was some faint paw tracks and my shoe prints.

The First simply scoffed. "We are Dalish. Knowing the nature is in our blood."

People had their limits. Push someone enough, and they get annoyed. Keep doing so, they get more than annoyed, and common sense would give way to stupidity. Which was why I found myself opening my mouth.

"You seem to have a dislike for me. Very much so, did I step on your toes on my past life or something?"

"Asa la ma'din nadas dar navhen, dashinlen." She replied, no sneered back at me, in elvish, hands clenched tighter around her staff. I briefly debated if I wanted to know what they meant. It could be her putting a hex on a curse on me, or it could be an elvish insult, something demeaning maybe."Ma vu-"

The hunter stopped abruptly, one of his hands raised to motion us to stop, cutting her off and preventing the First from finishing whatever she wanted to say. He lowered herself slightly, looking around as one of his hands reached back for the quiver full of arrows. "Where are the bodies?"

A little confused at what he was asking, I blurted out: "What bodies?"

"The bodies hanging here. Did you cut them down when you were here before?"

_Oh, those corpses. _

_Wait, if there were here, does that mean I actually had been wandering around in circles for the whole of that day? _

_But if that's the case, shouldn't I have smelled something, like the stench of the corpses the moment I got near?_

"I didn't do that."

Instead of three corpses, there were three ropes, with their ends cut off. Or more specifically, it looked like something ripped the corpses off the tree. The hunter walked forward slowly, bending down to inspect something. He picked up a part of the rope, rolling it between his fingers as he checked the end of it.

"Sadrica." He noted.

"How many? Is there a nest nearby?"

"Eight of them. This way." Following a trail invisible to me, the hunter set off, leaping across a log that fell on the path long ago. "I don't think there's a nest nearby."

"Small mercies."

Me, on the other hand… "What's a sadrica?"

"You'll find out in a while." The First said, then moving to follow the hunter, similarly leaping over the log with a grace that I could never achieve.

"Can't we just, ignore it? Or them?"

"Too close to camp."

"You can do it on the way back." I argued. Being caught in something I had no power in, is not something I wanted. Just as I expected, they both ignored me. "Shit."

With no choice, I followed them, almost falling flat on my face as I attempted to leap over the log like they did. "I'm so screwed."

Stumbling my way to them, I saw them standing at the ready, bow ready with an arrow nocked and staff out, burning with magic. "Is this really necessary? I could die."

"Not our problem." She coldly informed me. She pointed at the ground a few steps in front of them. "Vin vhen'valas, si'len."

Nodding in acknowledgement, the hunter took a few steps forward. On the fifth step, he jumped back all of a sudden, just as the dirt beneath him sunk, two pincers reaching up and grabbing at the air where he was standing a moment ago.

_Jesus Holy Shit!_

A bolt of energy flew in, striking the creature just as it crawled out, sending it back in its hole. I did catch a brief glimpse though, brown arachnid, two thin body segments, with six legs, and two pincers at the front. It had eyes of a spider, eight of them, all clustered together, and if one took a closer look, they could see their reflection in each and every one of those eyes.

Another one emerged, taking an arrow to one of its eyes as a result, causing it to hiss in pain and it shook its head. A second arrow flew past, striking it in one of its other eye, killing it. An icicle, a rather large one, was sent past its corpse, impaling the one emerging from the bushes behind the hole and nailing it to a nearby tree.

At the same time, something behind me wrenched me by the shirt and began to pull, dragging me up a tree.

"Holy Shit!" I screamed, kicking and yelling as I tried to find something to hold onto cutting my palm across the rough bark of the tree as I continued to be dragged further away from the ground.

The hunter spun around, and released an arrow straight at me.

"Shit!" I cried out, closing my eyes.

_I'm so dead._

Instead of hitting me, the arrow buried itself into the creature pulling me up the tree. Gravity took control of my body as I started falling. "Oh Shit!"

I landed on my left foot, feeling it twist to the side. "Fuck!" I cried out, squeezing my eyes shut as I instinctively curled up in a ball and held on to my ankle, rocking back and forth as I clutched the limb.

_Pain! Fuck! Shit it hurts like hell!_

_Of course it hurts like hell. I twisted my fucking ankle!_

I heard something getting stabbed, then the noise stopped. Opening my eyes slightly, I took a look.

_Damn…_

_Shit, my ankle._

In front of me, there were three more corpses of the spider/scorpion like arachnid. The First's hand was still glowing, lowering her staff that she held in her right hand, while the hunter just flicked something off the dagger he now held. A second later he sheathed it and bent to pick up his bow.

"Are they all dead?" I croaked out, my foot burning with pain as I clenched my teeth at the sensation.

"No." The tree behind me cracked and splintered as her hand reached out towards it. Spinning around, she ripped the wooden splinters straight out of the tree with magic, and sent them high up into the branches above us.

A second later, another of those spider things fell out from the tree, dead, with splinters as long as my forearm stuck in it.

_Holy Shit._

"Now they are all dead."

Did I piss my pants again? I did a brief check.

_Nope. _

My leg still burned like hell though.

"Lets go. We still have a long way to go."

Hissing in pain, I tried to get up, and dropped back down when the pain got too much. "I think I twisted my ankle."

"Quit complaining you baby." She sneered, moving over and pulling my leg out of my grasp, causing a fresh wave of pain to spike over.

"Ah shit!"

Growling in annoyance, she closed her eyes and concentrated, other hand hovering over my leg. "Shut. Up."

She opened her eyes almost immediately. "Something's not right." Her hovering hand slapped down and twisted my ankle, hard. I heard a pop sound. Yanking dislocated joints back to their original position was _not_ the proper way to handle dislocations. Actually, it was. But the procedure would require gentle manipulation, not brute force. Without sedation. I reminded myself of the scene in Narnia, the second one, where the protagonist had his shoulder dislocated and yanked back to its original position.

Shoulders could be dislocated, but what about ankles? I never heard of ankle dislocation.

"Fuuuuuuuuccccckkkkk!"

_Bitch!_

"There we go." This time, when she closed her eyes, her left hand began glowing with energy, green energy. While the pain was still present, its fading, and my ankle felt chilly. Like someone pressed a bag of ice against it. Healing ice. The sharp stinging pain that felt like my nerves being set on fire had dropped down to slight aching and soreness.

"Don't you hate shems?" I croaked. "So why are you healing me? Not that I'm complaining."

"Better than carrying you." She snapped. "Now shut up."

_That explains it._

Healing magic, cool and awesome. Destruction magic, terrifying and deadly. She ripped wooden splinters off a tree and used them as projectiles. She used ice magic to make an icicle and used that as a deadly projectile too. That, wasn't any magic I've seen in Dragon Age. The closest I could think of was the Cone of Cold, and that looked nothing like it. Though the ripping wooden splinters thing could be Force magic, like the one Bethany used.

_Heh, Force magic. Maybe's she's a jedi. _

_No, the Keeper would be the jedi, she would be the padawan. The Chantry Templars would be stormstroopers while the Dalish would be the Rebel Alliance. With racist tendencies._

"What?"

I snapped out of my stupor, noticing that she's giving me a weird look.

_Oh shit._

"Just thinking. Don't mind me."

"Shem." She rolled her eyes as the healing glow vanished. "Done, now just avoid putting stress on that foot for a while and…" Getting back up, she kicked me in the side. "Get up. We have a shem to deliver."

_Still a bitch… Who healed my leg, but still a bitch._

I am seriously becoming prejudiced.

I had this feeling that told me that she could heal my leg the normal way, but she chose to yank it back to its normal position first just to spite me. Again. Still, an injury like that would leave me limping and have difficulty walking for months. At least now, all I felt was some lingering numbness hat slightly impairs my ability to walk. Which was amazing, considering that the healing magic had been more powerful than anything any doctor would've done back home.

"So, "I grunted, pulling myself up, almost falling over as I did. My leg felt numb, like someone injected that limb full of anesthesia. Not a large dose, or I would feel nothing at all. I had one before, it literally made me feel nothing. Depending on the situation, it could be either good, or bad. "What's a sadrica?"

"A spider subspecies. With pincers as its fourth pair of limbs and ambushed its prey instead of making webs." The hunter replied. "Heard they are native to the Anderfels. Very pesky." He pointed out as he tried to pull an arrow out of one of the corpses, only for it to snap.

I watched as he threw the broken arrow away. "Then why are they here?"

"No idea."

I found out way later that it belonged to an Orlesian noble who loved exotic pets and brought them to Fereldan during the Occupation. Somehow, they escaped, and… well, do your math.

It was like introducing bunnies to Australia, except the bunnies are the size of a lion and had no qualms on what they had for their next meal. Including humans, elves or dwarves.

I stumbled slightly as we moved off. Walking on an ankle that felt like its not a part of my body was hard. Still, it was better than limping around or hopping on one foot. "Gah, crap."

The First looked at me irritably. "Quit complaining."

I did my best to ignore the weird feeling in my foot and straightened my body as I defended myself. "I didn't say anything!"

"You were about to."

Instead of replying, I bit down on my lip to refrain myself from saying anything that would get me killed.

The hunter patted the First on the shoulder and said something, which she snapped back at. Didn't take long for them two of them to start arguing.

Not your average argument, where voices were raised, fists being shaken, but the elvish discreet one. Elves have better hearing than humans, so the argument was more or less angry whispers so low that I couldn't even pick up a single word on what they're saying.

That's exactly what that makes elven commandoes so deadly. Or the Dalish in general. As long as they had a way to communicate with each other and a place to hide and strike, the Dalish are deadly. Hiding among the trees, raining arrows down on those beneath them, using their agility to weave among the foliage, from tree to tree as they avoided detection.

The only way to flush them out would require burning the trees, which wasn't something many were willing to commit.

It took at least two more hours of traveling, or constant stumbling in my case, before we managed to reach a dirt road of some sorts. A signpost was erected along the side of it, a little slanted but standing.

"There. Now just follow the road and keep going. You'll be there before nightfall."

_Wait back up._

"Wait wait wait." I interrupted. "Aren't you supposed to escort me to the nearest village?"

"Close enough." She gave me a half assed shrug in reply and pushed me forward. "Our job is technically done."

_Is she actually serious?!_

"What…"

"Our job, is done. Now get moving." The First growled. When I failed to move, she slammed her staff into the ground, generating a shockwave which sent me stumbling slightly. I could've sworn I saw her eyes glow for a second. "Get. Lost. Shem."

I hesitated.

"Now." She practically snarled in annoyance, eager to get rid of the shem who had been getting on her nerves for reasons unknown to me since yesterday.

I instinctively took a few steps back in alarm, adverting my eyes away from her.

I wished that I was in a more urban environment, which would probably make me feel more at ease. Not that I'm saying being in a jaw dropping pollution free environment is bad, but I'm just not used to being so far from civilisation. Or being around so many trees.

By civilization, I mean with proper modern buildings and automobiles, home, fast food-

_No, don't continue with that train of thought._

When I looked back up, both elves were gone. Vanished.

_Goddamn Dalish…_

I knew they were still here, maybe somewhere back in the forest, watching.

"What if there's more of those spidery things? Or bandits? Or wolves?"

As expected, they didn't reply.

"Bloody hell."

Not wanting to be caught in the open when night falls, I turned and started a light jog along the dirt road.

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_**A.N: About the spider... well, our good ol' Earth is populated by many different spices of animals, insects yadda yadda. So far in Dragon Age, the animal kingdom comprises of giant spiders, mabari, **_**_nuts, bears, brontos, dragons and stuff. Which is why I'm going to make it more populated. Increase the diversity you know, the universe demands balance._**

**_Greenfell and Hafter's River actually existed in Fereldan and in Amaranthine, or at least close to it. Rosdon, on the other hand, I made it up. Fereldan is more than just the places we heard and travelled to in game damnit!_**

**_In the meantime, if you like reading Mass Effect SI fics, go check out Universal Masses by LeShyWolf. _****_  
_**

**_The review button is right below. Click it?_**


	4. Chapter 4

_**A.N: A filler chapter. Nothing much for me to say this time. Thanks to all who favourited, followed and reviewed this story. Or shameless **_**_fanfiction as some would say._**

**_Edit: A couple details about the co-worker, and the village defences. _**

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There's three different classes of swords: great sword, longsword and short sword.

The great sword was your typical two handed weapon, like a Zweihänder and a claymore. The game exaggerated their size, since they looked much smaller than the massive behemoths seen in the game. Try swinging one with one hand, and one would find themselves stumbling and trying to lift it properly. However, its size and weight could still inflict pain on someone even if they had the protection of armor, as the impact itself could crack or at least break bones if it failed to penetrate armor.

I doubt I could carry it and swing it properly. At best, I would find myself stumbling around with the blade like an idiot.

Then there's the short sword. Nearly every army armed their shield bearers with a short sword since it makes them deadlier in close quarters and allowed them to fight in formations with a greater ease. Also commonly used as a secondary weapon for archers and crossbowman in events they had to defend themselves in close quarters. Unlike daggers and knives, short swords couldn't be hidden as easily in places such as boots.

Not exactly comfortable with it, since it required me to get rather close to stab or slash someone with it. Very close. I preferred to keep my distance, plus I kept overestimating the range of the weapon.

Lastly, the longsword. The primary weapon for most knights and officers. It could be wielded with or without a shield. Obviously, its longer than a shortsword, given its name. Longswords were best for any situation, both defensively and offensively, though its length made swinging it in a tight hallway a bitch. Against plate armor, a successful thrust from a longsword could pierce it easily too.

Most Templars were equipped with a longsword, as fighting mages could be disastrous if they clustered together tightly in formation at times. Plus, its range allowed them to cut down fleeing mages with a greater ease, or keeping as much distance as they could between themselves and a magical threat.

Its not light, but enough to be carried and swung by me without stumbling around like an idiot. Plus, it had reach. I still had to go up close to get things bloody but not as close as a short sword would.

Which of the above did I choose?

None.

I had no money to purchase any of them.

Technically, I do.

The money, well, apparently 21st century clothing had high quality fabric which deeply fascinated the local tailor, and he was more than happy to make a 'fair' trade. In return, I got a couple of his tunics, trousers and a thick wool coat plus a silver. I didn't trade my wallet though. At least, not yet.

I could had gotten more than just a silver if I excluded the coat, but Fereldan's a cold country. I'm not going to assume that that's not the case just because I haven't felt the cold yet.

Ten coppers would buy me a loaf of bread. Five coppers would buy me an apple. Twenty coppers would get me a small meal. Sixty coppers would get me a knife. A kitchen knife, not the ones meant for stabbing people on a regular basis.

The cheapest blade weapon they had at the local blacksmith costs way more than just a silver, so that's out of the question. The kitchen knife would not save me from death from starvation or exposure.

Naturally, I settled for using the silver on food. Since nighttime in Fereldan was absolutely freezing, I spent my first night in a random barn, and was tortured the whole night by fleas and other unholy insects that lived among hay.

I was chased out by an angry farmer wielding a pitchfork the next day.

The second night was spent in the Chantry, which I quickly left as soon as I realized that they occasionally recruit Templars from the homeless and orphans who found refuge under them. While yes, emphasis on recruit, given the fact that people like Petrice, Lord Seeker Lambert and Meredith exist in the Chantry, I certainly do not want to find myself 'recruited' by them.

Did they 'recruit', or just recruit, I don't know. The Mother of this Chantry might not be an extremist but she could be. So I left, not wanting to stay and find out.

I also tried job hunting. The woodcutter refused to take me in as an assistant after I couldn't manage to split a log into half without screwing it up in one way or another along with my lack of strength to carry loads of firewood. The smith refused after I immediately broke his hammer right after I was given a chance to show him what I know. The vendor refused because I managed to topple his stand of goods.

_I'm a walking disaster. _

Bartending at a local inn, surprisingly, I was accepted. I had quite a couple experience at bartending virtually, on this mobile game called Bar Oasis that I played quite sometime ago. On the downside, in exchange for free accommodations and meals, I'm getting half pay because of that. And the accommodations, I wasn't talking about a room to myself. It looked more like a storeroom, with two mattresses and a tiny round table with three chairs around it. One of which would probably fall apart if anyone sat on it.

Which I shared with my co-worker, a blonde woman in her early twenties, hair tied back in a ponytail. Our little employees' bunkroom.

Bartending in TVs, movies and video games were made to look simple. Pour drinks, share the local gossip, be the nobody behind the counter. Here, bartending also included cleaning mugs, clearing the place, rearranging tables and dealing with pricks.

"How about today?"

One of which, stood in front of me, bugging the living hell out of me. Here, there's no laws to that prevents one from underage drinking, but its morally wrong to do so. Adults, parents and bartenders were expected to keep a rein on any under aged pricks who seek a sip of alcohol. With fists.

"No."

My small stature, prevents me from doing that. Along with the fact that punching patrons, even the non paying ones, would be bad for business. However, there's nothing stopping this fifteen year old teen's father from breaking my jaw if I served him a drink.

"Do you ever get tired of saying that to me?"

Then, the cheap ale. One problem about them was that they're cheap, so its expected to find someone coming back for more thanks to its price and availability. Then they end up wasted, stumbling around knocking over everything. In worse cases, they either puke their guts out or lose control of their bowels, making a mess. The best was when I found a mug filled with half finished ale and some puke in it.

_That was fun._

"Alright, I admit, I do. Mister Lowel, please, come back as soon as you're old enough to drink and have a pleasant day."

Names were hard to remember, since I see many people on a daily basis, flocking over for a drink after a hard day working in the fields, chopping wood or whatever their occupation was. So it was easier to remember faces unless an impression was made. In this case, it was being bugged by some kid two years younger than me who was fascinated by the drink many adults drank in large quantities that causes intoxication.

"No one would know."

Rosden had a population of approximately six hundred, your average village positioned beside a river and bordered by the nearby Wending Woods. Like Riverwood from Skyrim and Flotsam from The Witcher 2. It looked more like Riverwood though, but much bigger.

Not exactly much, but still small enough for gossip to spread like wildfire. There were six other people in the inn, four who were sober enough and would bear witness to me giving this kid ale if I did as he asked. Then at least one of them would go home, tell his wife, his sister, whatever, and the next day, they would go to the market, and by the end of the week, I would be working behind the counter with a broken nose or jaw of some sorts.

"Uh huh, and I'm sure everyone here is blind."

At least the village had a wooden fence of some sorts, taller than me by at least three heads. At the center of the village was another walled off area. The manor, where the local Bann and his men lived. Since he's a rather minor and unimportant one, more of a magistrate rather than a true Bann, he had only around twenty men. Who looked more like your average militia rather than trained soldiers. Plus nine Templars from the local Chantry.

A sufficient deterrent for any bandits or thugs that made sure they don't try biting something that's too strong for their teeth. Not enough if some rival Bann decided to be a dick, or if the nearby Dalish got pissed off. Or a darkspawn horde.

On the bright side the village had a rather close proximity to Vigil's Keep. So sometimes, when the situation called for it, the fortress would send some of their own better trained and armed men to reinforce the village.

"Then I'll come back when everyone has left."

Sitting down as I rested my head against my palm, I groaned. "No," Dealing with this guy was like trying to fix a malfunctioning record that couldn't shut the hell up. "In fact, don't come back here at all."

"Just one mug," I turned, doing my best to ignore him as I cleaned the shelves behind the counter, wiping off dust, a walnut shell and some ale spillages. "And you wouldn't be bothered anymore."

"No, no, no." Growling in frustration, I threw an empty mug into the basin. Its wooden, so it wouldn't break that easily, hence the throw. I heard that one time I fight broke out in the inn, and the brawlers broke nearly every mug available after using them as bludgeons. Drunken shenanigans. "Seriously, get out. You are affecting my work."

"How hard can it be to just sell me one mug?"

Having a bouncer would be great, to handle people like him. Unfortunately, my new employer was a dick, a lazy dick too, and refused to hire one. My pay was already shitty enough, and I doubt he would be willing to dig out a few extra coins just to hire one. Which was why I'm here. My predecessor had enough and gave him the finger. Hence, my presence here as a replacement bartender too dumb enough to accept the job.

_To be fair, I was desperate for a job and some stability._

"How hard can it be for you to turn around and walk away?" I replied, not even bothering to look at him this time. His physical presence had actually started giving me migraines. Maybe.

Ever had someone who just couldn't shut up and constantly annoy you? That's him, the bloody alcohol obsessed teen despite never having drank a sip before. Or maybe he had, which explains this idiocy. And my fellow employee wasn't helping me out at all, weaving about between tables while shooting me smirks once in a while, clearly enjoying what was happening.

"Its only-"

"No," I interrupted him, losing my patience. My sanity was not equipped to deal with such annoyances. "I'll piss in a cup and force it down your throat if you keep it up."

"Nah." He had this cocksure look on his face. "We both know you wouldn't."

"Then you don't know me enough." I literally growled that out. "I. Am. Serious. Leave." The last word was seethed out, my hands gripping the sides of the counter while I recited every anger management tips that I knew in my head.

_Relax. Breathe-_

He placed both arms on the table and rested his head on it.

"So?"

_Fuckkkkkkk…._

Its hard to threaten someone when I didn't have anything to back it up.

_Actually…_

I immediately began looking around, checking if he was here right now. While we didn't have a bouncer, I was hoping that I could find a temporary substitute.

_There he is._

"Hey Pete." I called out to the large solitary man sitting by the corner of the inn, drinking alone. "Mind doing me a favor?"

He looked up at me slightly, cocking his eyebrow and tilting his head slightly to the side.

"Toss this guy out, and you'll have a couple drinks on the house."

Without hesitating, he immediately got on his feet, pushing chairs and tables aside as he marched forward to the counter, where Lowel was stumbling to get off he stool. With a sadistic glee, I smiled when he nearly fell flat on his face.

"You can't do that." He protested as he rapidly backed away.

I shrugged, a hint of a smile tugging at the side of my lips. Felt good to finally do that after all the shit so far. "I gave you multiple chances to leave peacefully."

Watching him get tossed out on his ass was literally, the best thing to ever happen, so far during my stay in Thedas. It was about fucking time something like that ever happened. Hell, I should've thought about it earlier. Saved me all the headaches and frustrations.

"That's rather innovative, don't you say?"

"You could've helped you know." I complained, half glaring at her as I went to the keg and filled up a mug.

"Now," A tray filled with empty mugs, and to my dismay I noticed that one was cracked, was dropped on the counter. "Where would the fun in that be? I spent two years dealing with him, only fair for you to have your turn."

_This guy has been asking for booze since he was thirteen? Jeez, what kind of family does he live in?_

"Glad to see that my misery brings you joy." No one vomited into the mugs this time. Half finished ale, a quarter ale left in mug… was that a beetle? How the hell? "You want to chop my fingers off too? The knife is kept in the back."

The inn had a kitchen, but well, it's a village off the main route. The only people who came here were people who want to live a life full of peace and quite, people running from others, people who lost their way or tax collectors. Hence, the kitchen was obsolete, and more of a glorified storeroom than anything else.

_Of course it would be a backwater village. Why would I be conveniently sent near somewhere important like Denerim or Lothering? My luck ain't that good._

"I rather you keep your fingers. They might come in…" she had this sly smile plastered on her face, a strand of her blond hair falling over her left eye. "Handy. Very handy."

_Seriously?_

I dumped the mugs into the basin for washing later, then grabbing two from behind the counter and filled them up with ale from the keg on the left of the counter. "Nah. I have better tastes." Pete was already moving, ready for the free drink I promised him.

_That's probably coming out of my pay, but hey. Its totally worth it._

"Rejection? That hurts?"

"Oh?" I took up mocking sad tone in my voice as I placed the mugs on the counter, which Pete took and went back to his solitary corner. "Then my hearts bleeds for your tragic soul. But don't worry, there's still plenty of people in the village."

"I'll take in under consideration."

"Please do. Keep the noise level down, and not in our room again." Waking up to two people rutting like rabbits in the middle of the night was not fun. Which was exactly what happened two nights ago.

I didn't exactly know what could be said about my situation. From programming student to working as a bartender under deplorable conditions and low pay. Back home, just lodge a complaint, people investigate, problem solved! Here, well, that's not an option.

Plus, Fereldan was rather anarchic , so unless its murder, active public disorder or some other serious crimes, well, don't expect much from the guard.

Unless its one of the major cities, where petty crimes were less tolerated.

That meant that I could resort to thievery, except that vigilante was practiced and I could end up in a ditch with every bone in my body broken and shattered.

The basic plan was maybe earn enough to leave the village, head somewhere else. Somewhere where I could finally work out what I could, or should do: Be the cliché guy and join the cast, or take the first boat to Orlais, Nevarra or the Free Marches.

By some chance, if I decided to be stupid and join the cast, my life expectancy would be short. Yes, I took fencing, basic fencing. Which meant the footing and how to lunge, the basic beginner lunge. Something that even a stroke patient could easily parry without assistance.

Unfortunately, given my current progress, it would be at least a year before I earned enough to leave the village and not perish immediately.

_Maybe I should start walking around asking random people if they need help? Might have a house infested with giant rats._

"Hey." She tapped me on my shoulder to get my attention. "What's this thing over here?"

I looked down at the untouched keg kept at the corner under the counter. "Ah, dwarven ale. Ridiculously foul keg filled with piss from Orzammar. Just got it yesterday."

She gave me an incredulous look, bending down to check it for herself, as if she didn't believe me. To be fair, dwarven ale was so foul that no human tarven, inn or any kind of place that serves drink would sell it. Upon opening the lid and taking a sniff, she immediately slammed it back down, gagging several times. Even while standing at a distance away, I could smell the stench, causing me to wrinkle my nose in disgust.

"Why do we have a whole keg of dwarven ale?"

"I developed a taste for it, so I had it ordered specially for myself." I shrugged sarcastically. I don't handle the logistics and orders for this establishment. "How would I know? I'm not the one who handles the deliveries."

_Scratch that, describing this place as an establishment is too kind._

"I'll move it into the storeroom later." I told her as she got back up, dusting off her knee. "No point in keeping it outside."

How foul was dwarven ale? Think about it this way. Smelled worse than piss, extremely bitter, leaves a disgusting aftertaste in your mouth. Sometimes, the aftertaste would be enough to make one puke it back out. That or the weird feeling one would get after drinking it.

One had to wonder why the dwarves favor this drink. Its abominable. Whoever who first brewed this should be butchered and the corpse left for the wolves.

And before I forget, I needed to know something.

"Adelia."

"Hmm?"

I bit my lip, wondering how I should ask the question. "What's the date? The whole thing in general? You know, the date?"

"28 Dragon, 17th Justinian. Why?"

"Oh nothing." I mumbled under my breath. "Nothing at all."

28 Dragon, still two years before the Blight began. The problem was figuring out which month does Justinian belong to. If it belonged to the twelve month well, it would be bad. Especially if the Blight erupted on the first month of 30 Dragon. That would've sucked. Big time.

_But before that… I have my own little problems right now._

With that in mind, I bent down to pick up the keg of dwarven ale.

* * *

_**A.N: Look down below, what do you see? Its a review button. Constructive criticism could improve my work in the long run and bring happiness to more readers, be it grammatical mistakes, stuff about the universe of Dragon Age or others. **_


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